The Heart of a Lion
by Phobeus
Summary: Final Fantasy VIII The Aftermath of the Sorceress War After winning the battle of his life what else can possibly be in store for Squall and the team.
1. Prologue

This is my first fanfic, so I chose something I like, so please cut me a little slack

**The Heart of a Lion  
**Prologue

_Happiness Depends on Ourselves_

_-Aristotle _

_ Man is defined by great moments, through tragedy or through triumph his character is revealed, and from the revelation he finds his place in the world. Laguana told me that after I returned, but to this day I still feel out of place. What we did was right, just, I don't doubt that, I have never doubted that, but where do I fit in now. I am a warrior I have trained since I can remember to be a warrior, but after the battle what happens to the warriors, they return home and pretend things are the same? No, things are not the same, they never will be, but everyone else seemed to bounce back just fine. Is it just me? No Rinoa, has had problems readjusting as well, but she has a lot on her shoulders, her worries and fears, she has to confront everyday. But she has found relief here at Garden and her time with Edea. Why can't I find something that will allow me to move on, something that will let me restart my life, something that will let me begin anew? Damn, these thoughts always come to mind whenever I close my eyes, sleep seems to come less and less frequent, whenever I come to my room its almost as if my bed mocks me daring me to try and find solace. Just one night is all I ask, one night with no nightmares, one night without cold sweats. _

_ Maybe I am loosing my mind, no, if I was I don't believe I would notice nor have enough rational thought to question if I am or not. The dreams, those are the worse I can see the fight with Ultimecia, I feel all the sensations of time compression, and the GF's all of them surrounding me, taunting me, attacking me, beckoning to me. The GF's have haunted me ever since it was ruled that there use was no longer needed and the cost outweighed the price. It was harder than I imagined giving them up, they provided such comfort and support, I knew as long as I had them that any situation that may arise I would be prepared. Now though I feel as if a hole has been left inside me, that a piece of me is missing._

_ I don't trust myself sometimes, it seems that without that confidence I second guess every decision that I make. I had to give up control of Garden to Quistis and Xu; I didn't think I had what it took anymore to lead anyone. They resisted at first, telling me that I would snap out of it, that I would regain my composure that they would just run the day to day operations temporarily, that was four months ago. Four months, had it really been that long? It seems I don't keep track of the days to well anymore. Whenever Rinoa is here things seem to run more smoothly, she helps to keep me grounded, but like most of the time she is with Edea. She has her own personal struggles though she can't always be here to comfort me, actually I should help her, and I should be with her, calming her fears, telling her it is ok. But how can I help her, I don't even have the power to help myself; I am useless, so utterly useless…_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The rise of the Centra

A rider approached the dilapidated ruins that were once the mighty kingdom of the Centra. A massive helmet was upon his head with mighty antlers jutting out of the sides; his horse a pale white carried him quickly across the desert that surrounded the ruins. The horses five legs came to a stop as it reached the beginning of a broken brick walkway. The rider dismounted looking across the grand structure that seemed to rise out from beneath the sand. He walked slowly down the pathway his eyes leveled forward, his hands hung loosely at his sides and an empty sheath dangled from his hip.

He quickly made his way through the ruins picking his path carefully, from the way he moved about it was easy to tell that the place was known to him. He arrived in front of a large door that was left slightly open, he pushed it the rest of the way in and as he did so flames leapt from the braziers on the walls to his side. In the middle of the room sat a throne cobwebs covering its extremities and dust coated every inch of the floor. The fire did little to cover the musty odor that seemed to exude from the room. The rider pulled off his helmet and sat it upon the seat a slight gleam of excitement coming to his eyes. He reached out placing his hands against the rear of the throne and pulling on it moved it slightly forward. Now stepping completely behind it he pushed with all his strength sliding the massive seat forward revealing a set of stairs winding downwards. Grabbing a light off the wall he headed down in silence, the only sounds coming from his boots against the marble steps. The view here was much different then the room above, this room was lavishly decorated. Golden candle holders sat upon a pure ivory table, the gleam of assorted gems danced across the light from the fire. The walls themselves seemed to be coated in pure gold, and against the back wall leaned a picture facing away from view. He hung his light carefully at the entrance to the room and made his way to the other side, reaching down he lifted the picture up and turned it around. Placing it on the wall in a preset groove where it seemed the picture once sat he ran his fingers on the edge of the frame a far off look in his eyes.

The picture was of a grand castle adorned with tapestries from each of the towers dotted around the main keep. A row of towering bushes led up to the walkway of the main door. The sky was bright blue and the sun reflected against the water of the large moat that surrounded the perimeter. The top half of the main keep was shaped like a diamond and at the bottom was a small courtyard, with a bubbling fountain that had a statue of a tonberry on top of it. All of the windows were darkened so you couldn't see inside, but at the very top of the structure stood a lone figure. A huge helmet like the one the rider had been wearing was upon his head. A massive sword was raised triumphantly in the air, and his mouth wide suggested he was screaming something.

A smile creased the worn face of the rider, as he placed his right hand on the middle of the picture. A soft glow began to emanate between the picture and his hand, an eerie red that quickly changed to a pure white. The light grew quickly and soon engulfed the entire room nothing could be seen only the constant white which seemed to penetrate the walls of the room and cover the entire ruins. A shriek cut through the tide of white and as quickly as the light had begun it was gone. The rider stood his hand still pressed against the picture his free hand now though grasped tightly around a sword that was an exact copy of the one that had been in the picture.

The picture too had changed no longer was it of a brilliant castle that towered over its surroundings, it was now a ruined structure covered mostly by sand. The trees were withered or gone, and everything below the diamond had become buried by the sand. Atop the ruined building stood a man his shoulders slumped in defeat, his helmet cast down upon the parapet, and his hands were empty. The sun was no longer out, the moon shone down casting an almost demonic haze over the structure. Even the picture itself had changed, the framing was rotten and at the corners the color of the paint had began to fade.

The rider released his hand and turning around headed back up the stairs leaving his light against the wall. The steps leading up were no longer covered in darkness but were well lit as unseen lights danced down from above. He reached the top of the stairs casting his eyes around the room and its sudden change in appearance. The throne was marvelously decorated with the finest silks; the wooden frame was inlaid with beautiful gemstones that reflected the dozens of colors around the room. A long red carpet led up to the throne from well polished doors and the once soot covered braziers now had a gleaming golden hue. He made his way to the door, and pushed his way out into the hallway that had led to the throne room. Statues were lined along the walkway. They depicted warriors and fantastical beings that almost seemed to be standing guard to the throne room. He made his way down the walkway to another set of doors that were cast in bronze and extremely heavy when he pushed them wide. As the doors creaked open slowly the sun burst its way in illuminating the hallway giving more life like appearances to the statues. Outside on the parapet the scene was overwhelming. Tall trees dotted the horizon, and the ruins were no where to be seen only the castle that had been in the picture now stood around him. As far as the rider could see not a single grain of the sand that had surrounded him as he rode here could be seen. His horse neighed loudly drawing his attention to the bottom of the castle. He smiled down at the horse and in a whisper said "Be calm, the Centra have returned."


End file.
